WFA Presents: Unbound Legends
by TheUrbanLegend2784
Summary: When Time threatens to pull the world apart, elemental warriors must embark on a journey to ensure the survival of their world. AU/SYOC Open.
1. Applications

The WFA proudly presents... _Unbound Legends!_

**Plot:** Taking place on an alternative, medieval-estque world, humanity has centered their lives around the art of elemental magic and developed various nations dedicating themselves towards certain disciplines. But from the skies of Heaven falls an omnipotent power brought to Earth by a supernatural force of benevolence that mortals can come to in order to fix their past misdeeds. However, this gift soon causes a rift in the balance of the nations, as powerful figures seek to obtain this object for themselves. Now warriors from around the world seek this gift for their own reasons, unaware there might be a more malevolent scheme behind this.

_Primary Elements:_

_**-Fire**_ \- Hailing from _Ragnarok_, fire users are typically warm and passionate, and willing to defend with a heated rage. They follow a constitutional monarchy, with the sovereign exercising authority in accordance with a written or unwritten constitution, while the Legislative Power is exercised by a Parliament, usually elected by citizens. The culture of Ragnarok is deeply embedded in tradition, and is popular with their social conventions, sports, food and drink, geographic scenery, art, and theatre. They represent _responsibility_.

_**-Ice**_ \- Hailing from _Khione_, ice users are at first frigid and stoic, yet have souls that can't get any warmer. They follow a representative democracy, where a small group of individuals discuss issues. Their nation is known for it's freezing cold weather, but most architects use this opportunity to build igloos and ice structures for businesses and homes. In terms of thinking and culture, Khione is the most open-minded and progressive out of all the element nations, with laws that grants equality and fair treatment towards minorities. They represent _progression_.

_**-Earth**_ \- Hailing from _Gaea_, earth users are sturdy and strong. Their bodies are hardened and large, with some of the thickest plating known to man. They follow an oligarchic republic, in which power rests with a small number of people. These people may be distinguished by nobility, wealth, family ties, education or corporate, religious, political, or military control. The nation is almost entirely filled with mountain ranges and geographical wonders, along with a lush and diverse culture of wildlife and flora, making it a wonder to behold. With it's exotic culture and traditions, Gaea is a gem in the rough of nations. They represent _stability_.

_**-Lava**_ \- Hailing from _Pele_, lava was originally a hybrid element, combining both fire and earth together, but the amalgamation was popular enough to occupy an entire province, and soon a nation. Their cores are eternally more than just warm. With lava churning in their systems, their tempers are like volcanoes, building up and ready to explode. They follow an oligarchic republic, in which power rests with a small number of people. These people may be distinguished by nobility, wealth, family ties, education or corporate, religious, political, or military control. Originally, Pele was a province under Gaea's annexation, before winning independence after the Gaean Civil War. Their culture is an ancient blend of ethnic influences and unique tradition, which includes stellar sights of volcanic mountain ranges, white sand coastlines, and verdant, lush flora. They represent _power_.

_**-Wind**_ \- Hailing from _Aboreas_, wind users have complete mastery of the sky. The gentle breezes can turn to tornadoes in mere moments. They follow a democractic republic, a form of government operating on principles adopted from a republic and a democracy. Aboreas has a wide culture, known for its wide skies, towering architects, and love for aristocratic sports. Aboreas encourages a lifestyle based on humility, honor, and determination. They generally believe the world is full of sickness, and encourages people to let go of their stress and experience the goodness of life. They represent _freedom_.

_**-Thunder**_ \- Hailing from _Relampago_, thunder users have boundless energy. They're free, powerful, wild, and always ready to strike. They follow a hereditary monarchy, meaning those who rule all hail from the same family, either by blood or marriage. Relampago specializes in barter trade, exporting goods like crops, silk, and substances such as drugs and alcohol. They also have a penchant for gentlemen's clubs and bars. Of all the cultures, the Thunder Elementals have one of the most fascinating, having unique holidays, white sand beaches, ancient ruins, and good food. They represent _legacy_.

_**-Water**_ \- Hailing from _Sirena_, water users are peaceful in nature. They are able to shoot high-pressure blasts of water, sometimes icy cold or scalding heat depending on their mood. They follow a hereditary monarchy, meaning those who rule all hail from the same family, either by blood or marriage. The culture is very much based around it's oceanic area, adopting customs that's been derived from beneath the sea. The most notable aspect of Sirena is its compassion of their life under the seas, creating art and architecture based off its wildlife and mythology. They represent _change_.

_**-Nature**_ \- Hailing from _Zallah_, nature users have a powerful bond with nature. They have phenomenal senses and can even communicate with feral creatures. They follow an elective monarchy, taking a page out of democratic elections. Once elected, the ruler is monarch for life or until their abdication. Their family do not succeed automatically and must be nominated or "run" for the position themselves. Zallah is widely a jungle area, in which they develop a network of treehouses for homes and businesses. The denizens art and structures are based on their powerful devotion towards mother nature. They represent _balance_.

_**-Sand**_ \- Hailing from _Setesh_, sand users are a deeply religious and hospitable clan. Their control over the countless grains of sand is merely jaw-dropping and astounding to witness. They follow a theocratic monarchy, where it's laws base from religious texts; in this case, Qur'an, the religious text of Islam. Setesh celebrates the holy month of Ramadan and the Hajj (pilgrimage) season, and the national holidays that follow them. They believe that mankind is dependent on the fate as determined by God and is powerless in controlling many of life's events. As a result, religious affiliation is essential to everyone in Setesh. They're always welcoming visitors and travelers with food and shelter. They're also well educated, and have extensive knowledge on foreign languages, classical text, and astronomy. They represent _faith_.

_**-Metal**_ \- Hailing from _Eligius_, metal users are cold as steel and harder than nails. Like proud warriors, they're hot-blooded and ready for battle. They follow socialism, in which advocates that the means of production, distribution, and exchange should be owned or regulated by the community as a whole. Of all the nations, Eligius is the most advanced when it comes to industrial engineering and militarized weaponry. While most of their economy is focused on their defense, they have a long and rich cultural history, steeped in literature, ballet, painting and classical music. They represent _preservation_.

_**-Light**_ \- Hailing from _Belenus_, light users are the carriers of the sun, and warriors of God. The most religious of all the nations, they put God first before themselves, drawing their power from sunlight, "the light of God" in their eyes. They follow a theocratic absolute elective monarchy, lead by a Pope, who controls the church and all branches of government. Their laws are all based off religious texts - in this case, the Holy Bible. The branch of Christianity they follow is Catholicism. Belenus is famous for their gothic architecture and art, loosely based off their faith. They are also known for its extensive religious festivities, holy masses, and charitable values. They represent _security_.

_**-Darkness**_ \- Hailing from _Thanatos_, darkness users rely on stealth, speed, and trickery overall. They are masters of the dark arts, being able to create shadows and cast evil magic to inflict pain. They follow an absolute imperialistic monarchy, where power is solely given by one, supreme ruler, who relies on a cult of personality to expand his image; and looks to extend its power and influence through diplomacy and military force. Thanatos is the richest nation, thanks to its large economy and strong capitalism. Although they often celebrate their achievements, most darkness users are seen as vain, shallow, evil, and corrupt. Their culture shows their greed, with it's expensive food, breathtaking architecture, classic theater, and long, lavish festivals. They represent _dominance_.

_Uncommon Elements:_

_**-Venom**_ \- Deep within the _Nartaka Caverns_, outside the mountainous ranges of Gaea, says to inhabit a small group of toxic benders. Splitting from the nature and life comes these poisonous few, and the venom users can morph their poison to either stall one's movements or force out one's final breaths.

_**-Blood**_ \- _The Cult of Sanguiny_ is a cult that is devoted towards offering blood sacrifices towards Sanguiny, the elemental creature of blood. They're also known for capturing and torturing other elements to convert into bloodbending. Blood users can manipulate both theirs and others blood to various capabilities. They reside on an island outside of Sirena called _Bellona_.

_**-Plague**_ \- Of all the element users, a plague user is the most vile and sickening. It solely exists to spread its disease, capable of wiping out a small city. Aside from their brooding and dementing demeanor, most plague users are typically resurrected beings, serving their master to spread his influence over the nations.

_**-Hellfire**_ \- Like their familiar realm of Hell, hellfire users are typically wicked and demonic. Hellfire utilizes in summoning the cursed flames of Hell, which can completely destroy anything, both body and soul.

_**-Love**_ \- In a realm called _The Vanishing Room_, resides love users, whose power is almost thinly disguised light, though it's not fueled by holiness, but forbidden and twisted desires. The Vanishing Room is open to anyone with love in their hearts, as long as it hurts.

_**-Illusion**_ \- Not too much is known about illusion users, aside from their obvious ability to sway the mind and manipulation their perception, thus separating their mind from reality. Anyone with this ability is more than just dangerous to cross. It's commonly discouraged regardless due to lingering effects that may be placed victims.

_**-Sound**_ \- Not much is known about sound users, aside from their powerful and dangerous usage of the periodic disturbance of a medium that radiates outward linearly in the form of a pressure wave, mainly in a sonic wave or heavy vibrations.

_**-Gravity**_ \- _The Gravity Tribe_, who resides on the island nearby Zallah dubbed _Yachama_, are an enigmatic and mysterious tribe of gravity users. Controlling the heavy force that keeps feet to the ground, being able to increase and decrease its influence can be problematic in battle, but it seems all the Gravity Tribe wants is to be left alone.

_Rare Elements:_

_**-Tech**_ \- Deep within Eligius, there lies _Project Olympus_, a privately funded program which seeks to take element users, dead or alive, metal or not-metal benders, and convert them into automatons. These cyborgs are designed and programmed to serve Eligius as either assassins, spies, sentinels, or vigilantes.

_**-Magnetism**_ \- A distinct element, magnetism users can generate any matter that is magnetic; whether it'd be natural, organic, or artificial. Magnetism users are known for manipulating and controlling them as they will and indirectly use them to manipulate other things.

_**-Ink**_ \- A combination of water and darkness, ink contains a concentration thicker than any other pigment. Such techniques include moving ink, change the color, consistency and viscosity between solid and liquid. Ink users can even manipulate the skin tattooed on one's skin.

_**-Smoke**_ \- Not much is known about smoke users, but they can channel the collection of airborne solid and liquid particulates and gases emitted when a material undergoes combustion or pyrolysis, together with the quantity of air that is entrained or otherwise mixed into the mass.

_**-Crystal**_ \- Refined in the earth, crystal users control the naturally occurring, homogeneous inorganic solid substances with a definite chemical composition and characteristic crystalline structure, color, and hardness. Like their geo-based counterparts protrude mineral formations from their body.

_**-Storm**_ \- A special ability combining the might of thunder and wind, storm users are the innovators of commanding and controlling the most ferocious of storms. Whether it'd be strong winds, heavy rain, and thunderstorms, the power of storm users are unmatched.

_**-Lunar**_ \- Although this element has yet to be discovered, lunar users draw power from the bright moon. Whether it'd be using lunar energy for battle, or changing the phases of the moon, lunar users can be the subject of legend...

_**-Aether**_ \- One of the more rarer and less tabu of elements, aether users can control the material that fills the region of the universe above the terrestrial sphere. Although in order to unlock such an element, they must be able to master all of the basic element disciplines. Once one masters the power of aether, they are considered a quintessential element user.

_Divine Elements:_

_**-Cosmos**_ \- To those who can control space and stars, cosmos users can use this element to travel across different dimensions, deform the physical space, and encrypt messages and symbols with stars.

_**-Time**_ \- The Time Keeper is tasked to control and monitor the flow of time, and to prevent it from being dismantled. This task, while seemingly easy, is extremely daunting and can cause psychological strains. Such abilities ranges from slowing down time to reversing time for a short bit. Time is definitely not stable, and can change if anything is done. The Time Keeper can see far enough to know the fates of others, and can find the deepest, darkest secrets.

* * *

**App:**

-Name:

-Personal Nicknames:

-Element:

-Age:

-Gender:

-Birthplace:

-Alignment:

-Occupation:

-Species:

-Appearance:

-Personality:

-Spirit Creature (optional):

-Abilities/Skills:

-Weapons:

-Weaknesses:

-Clothing Style:

-Religion:

-Sexuality:

-Crush (optional):

-Views/Philosophies (optional):

-History:

**Spirit Animal App (only if you have one)**

-Name:

-Species:

-Element:

-Appearance:

-Personality:

-History:

* * *

**App Rules:**

-You can send in multiple OCs

-All characters are expected to be human, but if you want to send in a character whose not human (say an Angel, Devil, Hellspawn, Cyborg, etc.) PM me, and we can talk about it.

-Since this is not the modern world, some of your typical clothing choices is likely not to exist. Some clothing that's notable includes fur coats, robes, shawls, cloaks, trench coats, robes, gis (if bending an element), and so on. It's stuff like t-shirts, jeans, and hoodies that are non-existent. For inspiration for looks, seek out images for _Avatar: The Last Airbender_ and _Game of Thrones_ characters. You'll get the idea.

-OCs are allowed up to three weapons - a primary (their main weapon), secondary (backup weapon), and tertiary (a weapon rarely used, but could serve as their trump card.) On the topic of weapons, they can be anything, really - swords, bow and arrows, axes, spears, scythes, mallets, whips, claws, etc. But there can be no guns! Considering the timeline of this universe, guns haven't been made yet. Also, please describe your weapons, and try your hand at naming them. Weapons may be optional, but it's recommended that you name and describe them.

-For abilities/skills, just think of ways your character can bend their element.

-OCs can deviate from one element to another. Just PM me that you want your character to transition elements so there aren't any spoilers. Also, OCs must bend one element, unless it's a hybrid element, but there's little room for those characters at the moment.

-To explain Spirit Creatures, a character can tap into the spiritual power of their creature if they're powerful enough. If your OC has one, it must have a name. But keep in mind not every creature can appear.

-You can send in OCs who are siblings and control different elements, just give me an explanation on why that's the case, and you're good. And yes, you can send OCs who are already romantically connected to one another (I see you, Chris and Scarlet.)

-For any further questions, fill free to PM me.


	2. Inner Thoughts Of A Black Winged Angel

_What is a god? What is it to think of something larger and boundless above all of mankind? Human history seems to be suffused with an inclination towards a sense of the divine. A god can hide behind many guises, each rising and falling along with the flow of civilizations, which is only one of what the Divine One has created. He's molded and chiseled the masterpiece that is the universe, his universe. The breeding pool for his angels. From the Earth, to the Sun, to the stars, to the corners of space - all hide ancient secrets even the enlightened cannot decipher._

_But what is one truly? Is it a being that listens to screams and mistake them for prayers, or a caricature to create peace, based off a lie. I think it's both. I've seen the true face of the Divine One, who've gone by many titles - 'God,' 'Yahweh,' 'Allah,' 'Ahura Mazda,' and more. The myth of the Divine One is ripe with mysteries, questions beyond comprehension. Why is it that he chooses to hide himself in the sky? What is his true form? Does he truly care about the humans?_

_The answer's always jaded._

_I stand over this balcony, below me is the azul and green planet occupied by the vermin that 'god' created, morphed from dust, covered by flesh, with blood flowing through their veins like water through tree roots. They are such docile creatures, controlled by the foundations of their faith, but there are a few rare cases. The world is full of kings and queens, who builds their empires out of stolen dreams and false pretenses. From the eons I have witnessed, I can conclude that society is a fragile ecosystem. Deceive people with the right lies and eventually they'll go blind to the madness right in front of their faces, and the most dangerous lies come in the form of beautifully wrapped gifts… they'll eat right from the palm of your hand. _

_They truly think they have it all figured out. Knew the right prayers, knew the right combination, truly knew 'god' and what destiny he has planned out for them, and it'll thrill them when their fate is brought forth to their door. _

_But destiny is a funny little thing. A future set in stone. But there is no destiny; such ideas are mere wishful thinking. For 'god' never plans anything for anyone. Not even himself. Everything is acted out of impulse. And this isn't anything like those stories about that destiny bullshit. There are familiar parts that may influence one to think of destiny, but it's happening for the wrong reasons, and there's nothing more frightening to anyone than an uncertain future, and there's no way to know what's coming next. _

_...now the whole world stands on the brink, staring into bloody hell, for 'god' truly did create humanity, he is not there to listen to their screams. Humanity's on the marge of extinction, but the only obstacle in my way is peace. But peace is never infinite, nor is it invincible. That I can prove it. 'God' created the universe in seven days, it only took me one to create a tool that can put him out of business._

_Let's see how these imperfect creatures devolved into monsters when the power of god is up for grasps. After all, if a man can channel the power of their creator, in a sense, will they longer need god?_

_Only time can tell…_

* * *

**Pretty short, I know. But consider this the sort of prelude of the story, and indication of what could be coming next. ****But just who is the Black Winged Angel? That's a question for another time!**

**The character apps are still open, so I'm still taking as many as possible!**

**till next time.**


	3. Time Flies Tomorrow

**Well, it's about time I got this banger out. Took me a while to do so, but hopefully I can post more regularly. Anyways, I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

**Santa Olvera, Relampago**

**13 Years Ago**

Merchant cities never seem to die in Relampago. Santa Olvera is a popular ground to make a quick buck, particularly by the product traders residing in the grounds for thunder elementals. Regardless of their origins, merchants can amass enough wealth allowing to attain power and influence. Be it clothes, crops, tobacco, tools, or the occasional houseslave dragged from the refugee camps outside civilization. The streets are flooded with dreams of profit; foreign tongues echo throughout the dry air promising deals and trades, with expectations of heavier pockets and less items to take home for the night.

As the sun has risen from its nightly slumber, the glorious lights shined upon the sandy streets. The Relampagan residents, merchants and customers alike, crowded the streets like ants to a carcass. Two figures, riding on horseback, made their way through the bustling marketplace, fighting every urge to gape and gawk at the bothersome merchants who trailed them, offering cheap and shoddy supplies and wares.

"...Look at 'em, Cassius." quipped the Templar knight named Samson, as he brushed off the Relampagans. He and his lad, his adoptive son and apprentice Cassius, were sent on a templar assignment over to the booming merchant city. Now, they were returning home to Belenus, but have to cross the vendors of Santa Olvera.

"You know, you'd think this nation had enough trading routes, but apparently the Mex Express just wasn't enough. These people always have to be selling something. Makes 'em look desperate, don't ya think?" Samson continued.

"...You sound bitter." Cassius implied.

The aged templar scoffed at his apprentice.

"No, at times I find it hilarious." Samson answered, as the exotic merchants continued to trail the duo.

"You think they can take a hint?" Cassius asked.

"They're like dogs in need for water, they won't stop." Samson answered.

At last, Cassius reached for the velvet sack attached to his mare. Within was copper coins, good enough to draw away the merchants. The young templar tossed the coins to the sandy grounds, as the merchants fetched after the currency.

"God's speed!" Cassius called out, though he received no praise.

"Hmph, greedy bastards." Samson slandered, eyeing over the merchants.

Samson had always been the spiteful one, even if he was a holy warrior. Age certainly didn't mellow out his emotions. By the time he became Cassius's adoptive father, he lost his once youthful luster, souring his bright green eyes and wisping curls and gray into his black hair, which consequently caused Samson to completely shave it off, chiseling a more harsh guise onto the knight.

Cassius was the opposite of his grizzled master, which took his colleagues by surprise, expecting him to live to pass down Samson's cynical philosophies. He treated himself more professionally, even for his young age. He has a squarish, handsome face, and wore his brown rose hair long for a boy his age. His eyes are a dull gray, which gives him a somewhat cold, striking appearance, especially when it's been set in his pale skin.

Both master and apprentice continued to move forward. Thankfully, at this time, the merchants in Santa Olvera seemed to have gotten the message, not to disturb the knights on duty.

As Relampago's heat further grew intense, a signature trait in the nation's arid environment, spots of shade started to fade. Cassius prayed that soon they'll complete their labor. Yet as he started to lose his thoughts, sudden commotion snapped him back into reality.

It sounded like a gang of youths, laughing at the dispense of another. Cassius cocked his head towards the source of the noise. Samson did very much the same, as they both simultaneously stopped their horses. The delinquents harassed an unseen familiar, but either Cassius or Samson could understand why, as they all spoke in their native language, in a rapid pace. A shrill sigh escaped Samson's throat.

"Hooligan kids. Spoiled and undisciplined. Yet what can you expect from these streets?" Samson quipped, before preparing to go onward. He expected Cassius to do the same, so it's why he was caught off guard when Cassius turned his horse to the direction of the kids. The incoming sound of the horse caused the Relampagan youths to turn their heads, they paused their petty assault.

All the children appeared to have full heads of silky and thick dark brown hair, which were cut short, and bronze-colored skin, common characteristics of the Thunder Nation natives. Their ponchos all varied in color, but most sported the colors of yellow, black, and blue - the official colors of Relampago. The kids, not appearing much younger than Cassius himself, kept silent as they kept their gaze at the knight.

"...Language barrier aside, don't think I'd pay no heed to your sinful behavior." Cassius scolded. The youths merely looked at Cassius, emotions were mixed with confusion, shock, and amusement at the templar.

"God would be the most displeased with your actions." Cassius continued, yet he was caught off guard when one of the boys shot out his hand, sparking a bolt of thunder from his finger. Lightning struck the ground, as Cassius's horse started acting up, evident by its startled prancing and throaty neigh, almost throwing Cassius of his mount.

There was laughter at this amongst the group of children. While Cassius was able to calm down his stallion, his frustration with the local kids grew beyond his capability. Within his reach, he unsheathed his weapon. A silver and steel welded blade, Cassius's first sword. While it showed signs of incoming rust and wear off over usage, yet the drawing sound alone prompted the boys to make their retreat.

Cassius looked on at the fleeing boys, fighting the urge to express his glee across his brow. His eyes then turned to the source of their attention, the poor one who had to suffer an undeserving wrath.

The boy looked a few ages younger than Cassius, and had short, dirty blond hair which was left unkept and bright, grayish blue discs that were his eyes. His clothing were tattered rags, an almost nauseating mixture of maroon red and a shade of green resembling pine tar. Wrapped around his shoulders were red and white hemp rope, with two hollow balls made of dark iron with gold engravings making a jingle sound with every movement. Thus making up a truly bizarre person to find in the streets of the merchant city.

"...You alright?" Cassius asked.

The boy was hesitant to reply, as he continued to peer into Cassius's eyes, but the young knight's dwindling patience started to lace his words in venom.

"I ask a simple question."

The boy finally answered, "I-I'm fine, thank you for saving me."

"My pleasure." Cassius replied, almost brashly.

"Carry on." Cassius said, before rearing his horse onwards to his journey. He caught up with Samson, who was occupied with drinking the contents of his beige flask of water.

"Done are you?" Samson asked his lad, who nodded, while catching the flask Samson tossed. From it being made from the bladder of a buffalo, it was capable of keeping water handy in long travels, even if it previously held for a land-bound mammal repulsed the young boy. As Cassius took his drink, Samson's eyes soon made a downwards divert. Cassius followed Samson's eyes, to see the boy had followed them, and is stroking the mane of his snow white stallion.

"Your horse has soft hair." he commented.

"...His name is 'Boss,' and yes, his hair is quite soft." Cassius followed up. There was an unwelcome pause, before Cassius and Samson looked to continue their way, but the young lad didn't seem to let up.

"Wait! Wait!" he called, chasing down the two knights. Even with the hardest of trips to the ground, the young boy persisted. Finally, Cassius stopped his stallion, and turned to the boy.

"...What is it that you want?" Cassius asked him.

"...Where are you from?" the boy answered with a question.

Samson and Cassius glanced at one another, before Samson replied.

"We hail from Belenus, land of the Light."

The lad was silent, like he was pondering to himself, before replying.

"May I come with you?"

Again, Samson and Cassius's eyes met each other's, growing more confused by the length of this encounter.

"...Young lad." Samson started.

"My name is Abel." the boy stated.

"...Abel, we don't have time for your shenanigans." Samson snapped.

"But it's important! I need to go to Belenus, it's where I should be!" Abel claimed.

"Then why are you here in the middle of this vendor city?" Cassius asked.

"That's… a long story. But I plead with you, take me back to Belenus with you! Everything will be explained." Abel continued to beg.

"Is there any reason why we should listen to you?" Samson inquired.

Abel sighed frustratedly, before pressing his hands together. He closed his eyes, and concentrated. In a flash that caught both knights off guard, an aura engulfed the body of Abel - one of the purest light. This demonstration lasted but a few passing moments, before it disappeared, and Abel reopened his eyes to a surprised duo of knights.

"...No need to argue any more about this." Cassius said, before Abel helped himself on Boss's back, taking a spot in Cassius's oversized saddle. The now trio went onwards to return home.

* * *

**Valens, Belenus**

**Present Day**

It's been four months since Samson's death.

Cassius, now older, was officially knighted after the demise of his adoptive father. It wasn't as though he hadn't seen it coming, but still, things like that are inevitable, even if it was unexpected. Cassius's life had never been full of constants. Samson, in fact, had been his one only constant. Not even a very good one, considering he was always hollow and unfulfilled feeling, and had a tendency to treat him in a rather unsentimental manner.

In truth, Samson wasn't cut out to be a fatherly figure. Cassius didn't even cry at his funeral, being too aloof to pain, even if it stems from loss. Aside from him being knighted, Cassius was also granted his deceased mentor's weapon, 'That Which Razed Hell and Cut Heaven.' The two-handed greatsword crafted by magic and the soul of a dying star. It was previously used by Templar Samson in a number of holy missions and is said to have the ability to exorcise demons and hellspawn from the innocent as long as it's wielder is able to behold the mercy of God.

When it isn't doing something so blatantly useful as being a lighthouse, it proves itself helpful in the warmth which constantly thrums through the blade and which releases as a song when the weapon is drawn for combat, gifting to Cassius his rather artsy nickname of 'the Bard of War,' as well as gaining the ability to use the light element, with many accounting it to the sword's mystical past unlocking some sort of elemental block.

Along with being promoted and gifted with his light magic, he gained Abel as his noble squire. Thinking back to when they first met, he spent most of the waking moments bumbling around, making himself quite a nuisance. At first, they weren't on speaking terms; then they spoke, yet they fought a lot. Cassius and Abel connected after a bit of tense jealousy early on and formed a brotherly bond, but they still fight like brothers on occasions.

As Cassius served as a knight, Abel is positioned as a holy monk, along with duties as a cleric, healer, and priest for the Templars Palace and Holy Church of Belenus, established in the capital of Valens.

Though today he had nothing on his agenda, so he was sitting outside the palace which served as refuge to the many knights and squires that made up the Templar ranks. In his possession was 'Michael's Light amidst Evil,' a rather unusually named flute of magical proportions; made of wood and ivory and decorated with an interweaving twine of red vines, supposedly wielded once by the Archangel Michael. Though it was found on Earth in the aftermath of the bloodiest battle in the Gaean Civil War, as a sign of grief over the massive loss of life.

It still played beautiful music, gentle in nature, with an ethereal tone so calming, it can bolster the spirits of the most austere of souls. Abel's lips blow into the flute, as the wind echoed the rich sounds of the instrument. In the religious capital of the continent, all was pleasant and all was quiet, with the sky dazzling in the bright summer sunshine. Footsteps grew heavy as light, knocking noises were heard coming down the manor steps. Abel meet eyes with Cassius.

"Thought I heard flute music outside." Cassius said.

"The day's too quiet." Abel replied.

"But Abel, silence is golden, isn't it?" Cassius questioned.

A curling crooked smile spread across Abel's face, "Was that… a joke?"

"Yes, yet an old one. Heard it from the watcher the other day." Cassius replied.

"From the who?" Abel asked.

"The watcher, keeps all the troubled youth in check in the city of Leyan a few miles down. 'Mason Rivers' I believe is his name." Cassius answered.

"If only there were watchers in Santa Olvera when we first met, thirteen whole years ago." Abel pointed out.

"I was just thinking of the past, a long journey we have been, yet here we stand, as if it were all just a few grains of sand in an hourglass. Time really flies like tomorrow." Cassius said, in his calm, steady voice, as he glanced into the serene sky with admiration, as Abel continued on with his song.

Abel's usual attire was that of a red fox fur waistcoat with gold buttons, black breeches, and black boots. A heavy, black leather and fur coat covers this attire if the weather calls for it and he always wears a pair of black leather gloves when out and about.

Cassius, while not in his armor, typically wore boiled black and red tunics. Black breeches with black boots, often times under a brown and gray fur. He appeared in no condition to fight, yet he seemed to have 'That Which Razed Hell and Cut Heaven' under a sheath.

"I assume you are off to patrol the grounds?" Abel asked.

"I am, wondering if that'll tempt you to come along." Cassius said.

"I'm humbled." Abel replied, as he stood on his feet to follow his friend to the stables to get to their horses. Boss was still around, and showed no signs of aging. Abel, since joining the Templars, was granted his own mare by the name of 'Mulan,' whose coat was red as crimson. Both horses were specially trained, obedient to voice and touch commands. Perfect for any rider. They resided in their individual box stalls, which are given maintenance by lower class squires.

Once mounted, both men - knight and squire - rode off to the holy city grounds.

* * *

**Mount Aragona, Ragnarok**

The sun was already high above the surrounding terrain that served as the Fire grounds' geographic marvel. Aragona laid in a great line like the spine of the nation. It was as if long ago the landmass was a colossal beast, choosing to lie down and fall into an enchanted sleep, and its soul was still there roaming the landscape. The range was high to the west and low to the east, curling at the end like a tail. It was the reason opposite lands can either be a lush paradise or a scorching desert.

On top, looking down at the collided lands beneath him - a man of blended descent. He resembled an inkskin, a native of Eastern Gaea, land of those whose skin resembled the blackest of ink, almost comparable to coal. But his complexion showed no shade of ebony, but rather caramel, like a Relampagan's. His black hair was cut short, nearly to the point of baldness, and an incoming short beard bestowed across his dark face.

This man, an elemental, controlled neither earth or thunder, but fire - as evident by the flames that sparked around him in an aura. The fire, though typically an orange hue, took on a color that was white as cotton, symbolic of the elemental's zen status.

The fire tamer, known to most as Detrick Cyrus, sat still as a statue, deep in meditation. He was clad in a dark, sleeveless red tunic, with matching silk pants, and black sandals. While his mind was in focus, his senses were still aware, with every towering tree, green leaf, brown bark, and droplets of pollen within miles reach. Nothing could pass him.

Yet something looked to change that.

Detrick's eyes opened, with his eyes piercing discs of mahogany as he peered around his surroundings for anything lively. As his gaze slowly scaled the clearing, a figure dropped down like a falcon diving to snatch prey. Detrick swiftly dodged the assault, but the figure landed, catfooted, on the ground, which was impressive considering the drop what must have been several stories and didn't even have a scratch to show for it.

Detrick caught a full view of his ambush hunter. A Relampagan woman, shaped petite, with hazelnut skin, eyes of the green sea, and hair black as a raven's feathers, that gracefully reached down her tanned shoulders. But as flames were set ablaze in her clenched fists, her hair took shade of sangria. She wore a red leather and cloth midriff top with a gold accent, holding a tight grasp of her busty bosom; with tight, matching leggings and boiled leather boots.

The female, whom Detrick known as Natalia Rodriguez, spoke no words, but set both her hands ablaze with fire and thundered towards Detrick, yet the blended firetamer sidestepped both punches, but so narrowly that he felt the heat of the flames with each pass. Natalia followed up with a spin-kick aimed at Detrick's face.

Detrick ducked under this attack, then seized the lithe woman by a belt wrapped around her midriff, spun her around, and threw her. Natalia landed with a resounding crash and Detrick followed up by opening his palms and unleashing a stream of orange fire at the attacker. Natalia seemed to have vanished into the inferno, and for a split second, Detrick thought he had won. To his surprise, the fires receded and seemed to be sculpted into a perfect sphere in the palm of Natalia's hand; unleashing a jet of fire erupted from her fingers.

The flames actually spread out as they reached further. For a brief second, it appeared that the flames had engulfed Detrick, and Natalia stood back to admire her work. Her eyes caught sight of something jumping in the air, and she jumped back mere seconds before Detrick's feet landed him to the ground.

Detrick looked up at Natalia with fiery eyes, then charged after her with a barrage of punches and kicks, which Natalia had to dance around in order to avoid contact. Then, with lucky timing on Natalia's part, she brought her fist to collide with Detrick's own and - after a brief pause to let the impact settle - Natalia set her next fist ablaze and swung. Detrick narrowly evaded this assault, as he can feel the flames lightly singe the corner of his eye.

The dodge proved to be a mistake because Natalia's right foot, which was blazing with flames, slammed into Detrick's side and sent him flying away to smash clean through the surrounding trees of Mount Aragona's forest side. Detrick got back up, teeth gritted, and chased after Natalia and with a series of flaming strikes. Natalia evaded the best she could, but Detrick's speed proved to be more excessive than she prepared for.

Detrick's next flaming fist passed Natalia so close that she felt her skin starting to roast, like meat in an open fire. But this brought an opportunity, seizing Detrick's wrist and leaping up, bringing a sharp knee strike into the face of Detrick. As Natalia landed on her feet, Detrick stumbled dizzy from the impact, and Natalia followed up with a powerful right hook that slammed into the side of Detrick's face.

The impact sent Detrick to the ground, yet he returned to his feet in time to see Natalia propelling herself towards him, emitting fire from the soles of her feet like a soaring phoenix. Detrick jumped clean over Natalia, then sprinted at her and landed a clean, flying kick that nailed Natalia right in the back of her head. Natalia tumbled forward, crashing into a nearby tree, with her flames catching the tree on fire.

Detrick sprinted at Natalia, who was slumped down the blazing tree. Quickly, she breaks off a trunk from the tree, intending to beat Detrick with the wooden club. When Detrick edged closer, Natalia seizes her chance, and swung her weapon wildly. Detrick dodged before he was given a horrid gash on his face.

After a few swings, Detrick catches the branch, attempting the snatch away the weapon, yet Natalia held with an iron grip. The two tugged, with Natalia starting to strike Detrick's sides with fierce kicks, but Detrick seemed unfazed. It took just one, ferocious headbutt from Detrick to cause Natalia to lose her grip and fall backward.

Natalia hits the ground hard, shielding her forehead with her hand. Detrick held the tree branch, which went from an early russet to blacken hazel. With the slightest of motion, it incinerated into ash. Natalia quickly kipped up to her feet, as Detrick simply puts his fists up, hands glowly ominously with fire changing from typical orange to a hue similar to blood; mirroring a great rage. Natalia simply placed her flat hands together, which also sparked flames in her hand.

Just as the fight truly began, loud slurping caught their ears. Both Detrick and Natalia lost focus and glanced over the sound's source.

A man, far into his years, was watching not too far from the fight. He had a large bush of gray and black hair on his head and a well kept beard. He appears in a red and black patterned, metal reinforced tunic, with loose, matching leggings and black sandals. He also wore an ivory colored overcoat and various belts across his torso. He held a bronze chalice, filled with velvet wine, and gently sipped the alcohol. His fingers, metallic-like with his gauntlet rings, further gripped on his cup as he silently judged the fight.

Finally, he swallowed his drink. There was a pause, as Detrick and Natalia brought their guard down, waiting for a response.

"That." the man began.

"...was bloody sloppy as shit."

Detrick and Natalia were taken aback by this answer, particularly the latter. The man, who was both of their mentor, Merek Blume, went back to casually drinking his wine, without to even explain why their fight was terrible. Before Detrick could say any words to Natalia, she sprinted towards Merek, engulfed with flames.

Merek didn't seem too startled, as he downed the last of his glass contents. He felt a fire erupt in his belly, before it reached his throat. Just as Natalia was about to catch up to the old man, Merek stepped forward and opened his mouth. A loud belch escaped his lips, which exhaled a large stream of flames, one of the largest Detrick has ever seen, forcing him to shield his eyes. His companion Natalia seemingly vanished within the fire belch. For a second… Detrick thought he had seen Natalia incernerated.

But as the fire disappeared, Detrick was relieved to find Natalia alive. She was on the ground, arms crossed with a ring of fire suspended in front of her, acting as a shield. It seemed Merek's attack was stronger than she anticipated. It vanished once Natalia dropped her arms, strength seemingly drained. She was getting light headed, as the heat - ironically - was getting to her.

As Merek approached Natalia, she looked up at her master with disappointment, like a child about to be scolded by a parent.

"...You still have much to learn, little Nattie." Merek said, almost in a taunting manner.

"And you." Merek turned to Detrick, who remained silent.

"We all know substance beats style, and style will only get you far as proven."

"Thank you, Master Merek." Detrick said, giving Merek a slight nod before walking over to help Natalia up. Detrick turned to see Merek walking off.

"I'm running down to Zara for a few errands, come along if you like." Merek said. Detrick and Natalia looked at one another for a moment, before they trailed Merek off the mountain.

"...A sneak attack? I thought you'd be more creative than that." Detrick quipped.

"At least I got you to fight." Natalia answered, dusting herself off.

"I assume Merek put you up to that?" Detrick questioned.

"You're not wrong, but he never told me why. He practically dragged me out of bed, saying I should spar you." Natalia explained.

"Why would he do that?" Detrick asks.

"To quote Merek, as he told me, 'you ask too many questions, not very sharp of you.'" Natalia answers.

"Good god." Detrick sighs, as they kept walking. The wind started to blow as they headed south the mountain, the trees seemed to come alive. Both Detrick and Natalia always seem to become uneased whenever they ventured into the dewy forests.

While they had lived there for a majority of their lives, there was always something troubling about those woods. It felt naturally eerie. The Aragona forestside is certainly no place for a leisurely stroll.

The forest's trees organically twist and turn, their roots winding across the forest floor in unnatural threads. Because of its location at the base of a mountain, the ground is uneven, rocky, and perforated with hundreds of caves. Yet more jarring than its tricky terrain is the feeling of isolation created from the stillness; the trees are too tightly packed for winds to whip through and the wildlife is sparse. Its deafening silence was a chasm of emptiness, devoid of soul. Its fog grew thicker, and every breath Detrick and Natalia drew felt like a roar.

"Ahh, take a deep breath in!" Merek exclaimed, as he stumbled down the forestside of Aragona, almost nearly walking into a tree.

* * *

**Zara, Ragnarok**

The western sky was a blissful mix of scarlet and gold as the sun shined on Ragnarok's capital. Denizens strolled leisurely to get away from the bustle of the city. Temples and palaces were scattered throughout Zara, as major marketplaces and vendors filled every corner, attracting passing customers. The three Aragona natives strolled around the premise. Merek had already split from his students, leaving both Detrick and Natalia alone to roam. Surviving the walk through Aragona, they were free to enjoy Zara's luxuries. Natalia occupied herself within a lenin stand in search for new clothing, leaving Detrick by himself.

In his saunter, Detrick passed blacksmiths showcasing their welded products to locals, cooks handing out smoked legs of turkey to the hungry, and artists painting masterpieces for a profit. Unlike most merchant hotspots, Zara seemed to be more organized. Surprising, considering its populous status.

Yet, Detrick still enjoy the beauty of the city and its agora, finding Zara more lovely than the lifeless sea of trees in Aragona. More interesting sights to behold and people to meet. A building of stone caught Detrick's sight, Zara's local brothel - it's been there for ages. During the day, the whorehouse buzzed with activity for those looking for casual sex and a bite to eat. Detrick even finds Merek stopping by a few moments or so.

At night, however, it was eerily quiet, giving it an ambience of abandonment. Though it always seemed to be the center for the capital's local troubles. A commotion catches Detrick, as he watched the oak double doors open, and a fight breaking out. He recognized one of the faces in the scrap. A band of guards fought off a man of light skin, brown eyes borderling the shade of black, with black hair and long bangs, one of which covered his right eye. The man wore a red and blue schemed tunic, plated with light leather armor, black leggings, and aged walking boots.

In the midst of the defenestration, the one Detrick Cyrus knows to be Jason Sabre was winning. He tossed aside a skinhead guard as many more tugged his tunic from behind, slinging back a right hook across the face of another. Finally, Jason managed to power through most of the men and shoved them down the stairs to the doors.

But one, a man bigger than his cronies, caught Jason from behind.

"Ya don't pay up, you pay with life!" he snarled.

Jason made no comment, aside from balling up his fist, exhibiting a butane flame combusting into his hand. Before the guard made a comment, Sabre struck the man by his jaw, sending the goliath tumbling down the stairs to join his defeated comrades. The flame disappeared from Jason's hand.

"My life isn't for bargain." Jason said, before gently stepping over the men as he attempted to flee the scene.

"...Thought you were westwards, Jason." Detrick quipped, as Jason stopped and turned to see his old friend.

There was a long silence, "Figured I'd run into you sooner or later." Jason said.

"You here alone?"

"No, Natalia's looking for clothes, and lord only knows what Merek's gotten himself into." Detrick answered.

"Merek, huh? One second he can be drinking with God in the skies of Heaven, and the next he's in Hell betting dice with Moxley." Jason sarcastically chuckled.

"How's he been?"

"Drunk." Detrick flatly answered.

"Why shouldn't I be surprised?" Jason asked himself.

"You know how he is - antisocial loner, hates all the known monarchs throughout the known lands, best friends with every wine bottle he comes across, and coming up with new ways to torture his students." Detrick exclaimed.

"Certainly sounds like the Merek I know." Jason said.

"I certainly am running out of ways to put up with his madness." Detrick sighed.

"Why not you learn a thing or two from me, and go your own path?" Jason asked, to which Detrick laughed, but not in amusement.

"Easy for you to say, you just walked out with vague explanations." Detrick retorted.

"Lie," Jason fired back, "Merek knew for a fact I was ready to leave. I exceeded every known expectations in fire taming, and beyond fighting and self-discipline. His unorthodox and downright absurd tactics of teaching were the least of my problems. There was no place for me in Aragona anymore. So, I collected my things, and walked right out of that temple door."

"And now I'm curious to know why you're back here." Detrick said.

"I'm heading south, planning to settle in Relampago for a while." Jason answered, "Thought I stop here to visit."

"You're certainly not missing much. Ragnarok may be home to fire tamers, but it feels frozen in time." Detrick states.

"Same dome-topped palaces, same traditional parliament… yes, I see your point." Jason replied.

Natalia drifts by to Detrick, quick as usual.

"About time I found you." Natalia said, she appeared empty-handed.

"And look who I found." Detrick says, gesturing to Jason. Natalia quickly frowned. For some drifting moments, it was a bit of a stare down- Natalia's olive eyes against Jason's hickory.

"...What are you doing here?" Natalia asked, coldly.

"This isn't Thanatos, it's a free nation, isn't it?" Jason replied.

A dirty scowl grew across Natalia's face, "So, you think you can just return to Ragnarok like everything is normal?"

"...I mean, yeah. What's your issue?" Jason asked.

"What is wrong with you? You just deserted us. I don't know why you'd do so, but I know it's for selfish reasons - probably to feed your fragile ego." Natalia hissed.

"Is my ego that notable?" Jason asked.

"I may not have given any farewell, but you seem to live through it. Me? I seeked to hone my craft further. I don't have to say I strive to be the best fire elemental around because I practically already am." Jason told her, before he opened his hand and demonstrated a spherical shape of bright, sapphire blue flame. It was crystal clear like the ocean, yet it burned intensely, with Detrick and Natalia feeling the heat radiating from Jason's hand. Jason closed his hand, and the fire vanished.

"I strive to be bigger than just some fire user. Or ice. Or even water. I'm a prodigy - you know it well. Gift or privilege, I don't know, but that can't be wasted."

"Well, I'll be damned!"

Jason turned at the voice, as Merek had snuck up behind his former student.

"...Jason Sabre. Keeper of the blue flame, hottest of all fires. I knew I smelt pure complacency around these parts. Thought it was just the bullfuckery of the nobles running 'round here." Merek said.

"Hello, Merek, m'-former-master." Jason responded.

"...I can't decide if this is a lovely surprise or a bittersweet moment for me." Merek said, almost in a condescending manner.

"An old student of mine, and now a nomad, who probably spends his time partaking in brigandage and sleeping in slave ships. Tell me, where has your shadow taken you?" Merek questioned.

"Further than what you're capable of teaching." Jason replied, slyly.

"Well, somebody's feeling dauntless today." Merek smiled, "That's why you were always my favorite. For your ambitious attitude, no matter how nauseating."

"My talents are capable of making me the next aether user. I can replace you. Don't you ignore it, Merek." Jason bitterly said.

"Oh I'm not ignoring your talents, Jason. I'm simply denying its existence." Merek responded.

Jason's hands fumed with his signature blue flames, Merek simply eyed at the fire, but was again emotionless. The tension grew like fog, before evaporating as Jason relaxed his hands, extinguishing the flames. He turned his heel and started walking, bringing distance between him and his former teacher. Detrick and Natalia watched anxiously.

"I… learned a lot from my time away." Jason started.

"Perhaps I can give you a sample."

Jason spread his hands apart, forming an ovoid shape of liquid. He turned again and launched the ball of water. Merek held out his hand to spot it, and tossed it through the air. While falling, the water's color began turning from pale blue to a deep red. Merek unveiled his chalice from his deep, coat pocket, and let the liquid splash in the cup.

He took a sip of his new wine.

"Refreshing. Never too early for a drink."

Jason looked vaguely perplexed, but kept his face from expressing any emotion other than focus. To Merek's shock, Jason's next move was a very quick and sudden kick from afar. The strike knocked Merek back, causing the old elemental to lose his chalice and causing him to hit the ground. Merek growled to himself, annoyed. He was, all in honesty, no mood to fight. But a drunk Merek can never exist without stirring some conflict. He turned to Detrick and Natalia.

"This would be a good chance to take notes."

Recovering rather quickly, Merek prepared himself for a sudden influx of attacks from Jason. The former student made no hesitation delivering a flurry of blaze blue punches and strikes, with Merek instinctively blocking all strike, keeping up this charade until Jason's lets down his defenses, even for a split second.

An opening was spotted, Merek retaliated with an orb of concentrated air, blowing Jason back and - ironically enough - knocking the wind out of him. Jason was sent flying by force, but even as the blow struck him, he founded enough momentum to alter his movement mid-air to land on his feet. Jason held his hands outwards with azure flames, and started firing spheroid-like fireballs in every form of elevation.

Merek reacted quickly towards every jab of fire Jason produced, swiftly moving side to side, up and down, and every direction to avoid the rain of fire. Merek cupped his hands together and sparks of electricity emitted from his hands. He projected his hand forward, as a bolt of golden thunder crashed the ground where Jason stood.

Jason looked in shock as Merek threw lightning in his direction. Luckily he jumped in time before he founded himself toasted. Looking to counter, he arched his arms in a sweeping motion and unleashed an arc of fire in Merek's direction.

The drunkard laughed, as the air around him liquefied and takes the shape of a large body of water. With a flick of his hand, the wave crashed into Jason's fire arc. The resulting evaporation created blinding steam, which caused both Jason and Merek to divert their eyes. When the smoke cleared, the former student was the first to strike, catching Merek with a flaming kick to the side. Merek grunted in pain as he stumbled back from the strike. With Merek stunned, Jason drew his fist back, with the hand suddenly engulfing itself in ice. Merek didn't have time to dodge, as the frozen fist connected to his face, ice shattering like glass upon impact.

Merek was bandied back from the strike. He gently pressed on his wrinkled face, and was relieved to find no blood was drawn. His eyes diverted upwards, to see Jason quickly approaching with another frozen fist. When Jason grew close to strike Merek, the latter surprised Jason with a steep kick to the chest, foot immersed with scorching flames.

The heat emulating from Merek's kick felt no different from the surface of the sun. Jason felt the droplets of sweat dripping from his forehead. But he felt no temptation to surrender. Standing his ground, his eyes started its own inner fire, fueled by rage and ambition, a dangerous combo in Jason's world.

Getting up once more, Jason leaps into the air, as suspended orbs of fire acted as stepping stones. Jason jumps again and, with a flick of his hand, Merek finds the orbs raining down on him from different directions. Merek jumped as well, launching his own furious, fire-fueled kick. Jason dodged, and hit the ground. His hands turned a pale shade of blue, as he pounds on the ground, freezing the floor and shards emerging.

Merek carefully avoided being impaled upon landing, before stomping on the ground, bringing the icy fragments to his grasp. He sent them flying like daggers, as Jason swiftly kneels in avoidance. Luck was on his side, had he hesitated for a second, he'd have a laceration carved on his face. With a flick of his wrist, he slinged his arm with fire forming into a whip. From the corner of his eye, Jason watched Merek seemingly drive into his shadow, vanishing in the illusionary projection. Jason sharply looked around, unaware his own shadow seemed to have taken a new shape… an ambush.

Merek rose quickly and uppercutted Jason's chin at all his strength. Falling back to the ground, Jason landed softly on his feet. It was then that Jason noticed Merek had vanished once again. Jason looked down at his shadow, looking for more of Merek's shadowplay. With a piercing, hawk-like gaze, Jason scanned for any sign of his opponent. Finally, after a few cautious steps, Jason looked up… and dashed out of the way as Merek descended from the skies, smashing his fist into the ground, causing a minor tremor.

Jason quickly shot back into action, as streams of blue fire illuminated the marketplace once more. Merek dodged and weaved around each the blasts. Just as he came close to Jason, the former pupil could already forcall Merek's kick to the chest, to which he narrowly avoided and replied with a sweep kick, following it up with a sharp strike to Merek's jaw.

The aether master's head arched back violently as the blow connected, knocking him into the air slightly. Landing, a small grunt escaped Merek's lips. Jason goes to rush down Merek again, as drunkard swiftly curved his arms, two whips of fire - white as the sun - hurdled towards Jason. The blue firetamer dived and rolled out the way of the whips of fire, and swiftly evaded a fast-coming ball of fire spawned from Merek's hand.

Approaching Merek, Jason seemed to have gained the advantage. A flurry of rapid kicks pummeled every inch of Merek, before he was sent flying backwards by a sharp sweeping blow to the chest. Merek hits the ground once more, sliding on his back before roughly landing on his face. With an annoyed groan, Merek slowly lifts himself up, before spitting out a frustrated concoction of blood and salvia, and maybe a tooth. Within his visual scan, he counted multiple waves of cyan fireballs in rapid succession - aimed in his direction.

The drunkard master didn't seem too amused, and set ablaze his hand in flame, but his fire - rather it's regular orange hue - seemed to take the shade of an amethyst-resemblance purple. Either way, Merek took no time to admire this change. The fiery projectiles rippled and distorted as they clashed together, illuminating in sparks and embers in dark colors. Merek pushed himself up to his knees, ignoring the nasty cracks he felt upon getting up. Merek spent too much time recomposing himself, as he ended up caught in the twirling fire daggers flared from Jason's fingertips.

From there, Merek hold no choices other than suffering. The hot blades hissed as they pierced through Merek's flesh, feeling the intense heat through his body. Jason's lips curved into a devilish smile. Finally, his opportunity to end it. Hot, golden light ignited in Jason's hands, before taking the shape of a holy blade, reminiscent to a cross - a light element technique he picked up from his travels to Belenus. Placing firm hands on the blade, Jason rushed at high speeds towards the dazed Merek.

Merek's eyes reeled open in wide shock as he felt the blade suddenly impaled through his midsection like a bolt of lightning. An agonized scream echoed throughout Zara, those who watched the duel collectively screamed and gasped at this publicized execution. Gasping harshly, Merek slide back to free himself of the blade, and collapsed to the ground… and vanished…

This caught Jason off guard, he watched Merek's corpse - or rather, a shadow clone, materialized into darkness. It was Jason's turn to be surprised. From his ears, he heard gasps once more, and on his shoulder - tapping. Jason didn't need a hint, as his fist encased in ice once more and he turned and swing. Merek, or at least whom he appeared to be, caught Jason's frozen fist with a hand blazing in purple flame.

In a matter of seconds, the ice broke on Jason's hand from the glowing-hot palm of Merek's closed hand. Jason snatched his hand back and stepped back with precaution. Without warning, Merek fired a flash a flames, to which Jason made no effort to guard himself. He may have been wearing leather armor, but it was already showing signs of deterioration, though it hasn't completely been decomposed into ashy soot just yet.

Evading yet another blast, Jason quickly froze his arm in ice and as soon as possible, punched the ground between him and Merek at full force. At contact, the ice left his arm and quickly spread across the ground, forming into a large sheet across the sandy ground. But the sand beneath Merek started to rise at his will, coating his feet, as if protecting him from being entrapped. With a motion from his hand, the sand swarmed into a wave-like cloud and engulfed Jason. Blinded by the sand, which stung his exposed eyes, he went mad with the pain, rapidly shooting radiant spheres of cyan-blaze fire at any direction, hoping he'd strike at Merek.

Finally, he felt his vision regain, and he perked up when the sandstorm seemingly died down. But as he let his guard down for a second, a bolt of lightning struck him down. Jason's body convulsed and twitched in pain as he howled. Yet he kept to his feet, refusing to lay down, no matter how much his body demands it. Merek's stood a mere few feet away from his opponent, with pointer and middle fingers connected as electricity danced around them. He casually blew the steam from them, and drunkenly chuckled. Jason felt the effects reach his nervous system, but he still refused to kneel. Weakly, he gathers his fists, and ignites his flames. Merek cupped his hands together, but rather than fire, thunder, or ice - a mixture of colors surrounded his hands.

Aether, an elusive spiritual power, a boundless, heavenly energy, the glue of all elements. Only the best can wield such a quintessential element. He strolled over to Jason, who was battling his fading mind. He goes for a strike, but Merek deflected and sent a sharp elbow into Jason's face, followed by a few strikes to his torso. Jason felt an odd sensation overtake him as he felt the aether touch his flesh, a tingling feeling pulsed through his body. Finally, Merek reeled back his hand, and opened his palm. With no warning spoken, Merek struck his hand into Jason's chest, as if he were pushing Jason to the ground.

Jason's mind started to go blank, as though he were entering a euphoric, drunken stupor. His very essence, physical and metaphysical alike, felt like it was being uplifted. Jason couldn't breath, but his throat didn't feel like he was being suffocated. Everything felt bright, effectively blinding him. A harrowling pitch pierced through his ears, almost bursting his ear drums.

But overall, he still felt like he was alive.

The light started to die, and he slowly lifted his hands. They seemed visible, but barely. He looked to the ground… he was floating. But his eyes made a shocking discovery… his body. Laying on the ground, perfectly still, eyes rolling into his head. The air vibrated heavily with the sound of Merek's boisterous laugh as he stood over his former student triumphantly. Jason tried to fight off this feeling, but he was ultimately powerless. Merek glanced upwards, seeing Jason's soul afloat, and smirked deviously.

Jason couldn't quite make up what noise he started to hear, but he can see Detrick and Natalia trailing Merek as he strolled away from the scene. Finally, Merek stopped, and bent down to recollect his chalice, patting sand off his beloved goblet, and gently blowing into its interior. Clearly, he was ignoring his students demands for… something. Finally, he seemed to give in.

Pocketing his golden cup, Merek opened his palm, before bringing down his fist. Before Jason could think, he felt his soul snatched by a furious wind. Crashing back into reality.

Jason's eyes opened, feeling the adrenaline coursing through his mortal body. His heart raced and head pounded. As he returned to the world of consciousness, he could feel gravity once again, weighing heavy on his hands and feet. The familiar face of Merek walked up to him. While not a regular move on his part, Jason bit his tongue, waiting to hear what Merek has to say…

"...Greatness awaits you another time." Merek said, almost in a chuckling manner, before slowly offering out his hand.

"But I envy those you've never fought, because they'd surely lose."

This was a surprise, even to Jason. He reached for the hand, but felt a crack within his shoulders. He lightly shrieked, now that he's reentered the physical world, the pain started to set in. Merek seemed rather apathetic, as he waited for Jason to make another motion… but within seconds, he grew bored, and walked off. Those who bravely watched the fight applaud, and Merek made no hesitation basking in selfish glory. Detrick and Natalia rushed over to Jason, aiding him like a wounded soldier. Once he felt his feet touch the ground, he halted. Detrick and Natalia turned back to Jason, watching him struggle to regain his balance. He managed to do so, and wheezed in and outwards.

"It's been a while… since I've been taken to my limits like that…" Jason managed to mutter. He coughed, his throat felt groggy and cold, before turning to spit, seeing blood had mixed with his saliva.

"We're sorry it came down to that." Natalia stated, looking flustered.

"I don't care." Jason shot back.

"Merek… sometimes, he's just a giant asshole… he brings out the worst in people." Detrick hissed.

"But at the same time… he's the reason we even know each other, when you put it in that perspective." Jason replied.

"...Is there anything else we can do, since you've gone through… all that?" Natalia asked.

"Trust me, I'm fine. I've gone through worst predicaments than this." Jason said.

Natalia and Detrick look at each other with shallow eyes, before Natalia nods.

"Okay, I'll go find Merek." she said, before running off. Jason and Detrick looked back at one another, Jason massaged his throbbing elbow.

"Well, I guess I'll see you around, Jason." Detrick said, before turning swiftly and walking off. Jason didn't reply, and made his way separate from Detrick's.

Detrick stopped, and turned back.

"Jason, wait!"

Jason stopped, and glanced at Detrick.

"...You already know what I'm going to ask, so take it or leave it."

There was silence in between them, but Detrick could tell Jason was considering it. Jason's eyes looked at the path in front of him, before turning back to his old friend.

"For old time's sake?" Detrick asked.

It's been a while since Jason truly had a place to stay, and while revisiting could open up some old wounds, they could be healed not by light… but forgiveness. Slowly, he made his way towards Detrick, who arched a smile. Jason followed Detrick.

Natalia didn't search long for Merek, who seemed to have gone away from the appraisement from the locals. It appeared she was scolding Merek for his pettiness, whereas the master didn't seem to care and was too concerned about how much drink remained in his chalice. When Detrick and Jason walked up to them, both their eyes drew towards the two firetamers.

"Is my room still open in the temple?" Jason asked.

"...See? I told you fighting bonds people together!" Merek exclaimed at Natalia, before turning his attention back to Jason.

"Yeah, uhh, right. Your room, yeah it's still available. Shall we make our way back up to Aragona?" Merek asked.

"Can we get something to eat first?" Detrick asked back.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah! Fighting while drunk builds one fucking hell of an appetite, I tell you." Merek proclaimed, as he lead his students throughout Zara, as people looked on.

* * *

**Leyan, Belenus**

Miles upon miles away from Belenus's holy capital, a smaller, though cynical, city of Leyan stood. Late in the afternoon, nothing was heard except for the chirping of birds and the usual sounds of the bustling city ambience. Cassius and Abel rode into the town on Boss and Mulan, respectively, as the hooves of their stallion crunched on the grounds they marched. Leyan didn't seem to be a vibrant hub of activity compared to Valens; on the streets, rather.

Most activity, however, came from Dead Rabbit Inn, which seemed to be where Cassius and Abel planned on stopping. Descending from their horses, Boss and Mulan stood obediently in front of the tavern, where other mares could be seen awaiting their masters.

The inn, on the surface, didn't appear as a large establishment, as it was packed between other functioning businesses, all falling under the same, thatched roof. It didn't even have a sign advertising itself. There is instead a mark, painted outside the oak doors, a white portrait of a severed rabbit's head, with splashes of red appropriately painted below the wound. From outside, they could already smell the smoky air that's been spiced with the scent of roasting meat.

Cassius and Abel entered the inn, and descended down the crackling stairs, bringing them into a large cellar, capable of fitting an entire band of knights. At the heart of the inn stood a hearth, giving life to a giant fire, and surrounded patrons watched excited as a naked, hog carcass roasted over a spit; turning slowly as it cooks over a pile of hot coals.

Scattered throughout the inn, characters such as merchants, travelers, blacksmiths, knights, bounty hunters, and other less than savory strangers kicked back and enjoyed themselves, whether that'd be telling jokes or reciting tall tales to an audience drunk enough to listen. By the bar, the innkeepers were hard at work, darting around to give every traveler ale, mead, or any other strong alcohol.

"What'll it be for yous?" spoke a black-toothed, goldeneye innkeeper.

"Two ales." Abel ordered.

The innkeeper shuffled over to the back, as Cassius and Abel waited, before a familiar voice grabbed their attention.

"Cassius?"

The two templars saw a youthful man with fair skin, long black hair with a shaved side, light cyan eyes, and a slim build. He wore a long-sleeved, silk tunic with pauldrons with the sun imprinted decorated on his shoulders. Tied to the leather belt that held up his loose breeches was a small sack. Around his neck, and stopping at his waist, he wore a thin, black cloak, but his hood was down for the moment.

"Mason Rivers!" Cassius called out in a smile, before turning to Abel.

"The one I was telling you about. The watcher around these town grounds."

"That is me." Mason answered, taking his drink and moving closer to the templars.

"What brings you in Leyan?"

"We're just patrolling." Abel answered, just as his and Cassius's glasses of ale arrived.

"You don't seem the type to drink, so I wonder why you're here." Cassius asks Mason.

"Someone's got to keep the peace around here, while the templars aren't around these parts. No offense." Mason answered.

"None taken." Cassius replied.

"You on the other hand, keeping children in check? Little youths running wild?" Abel asks.

Mason looked nervous, and ran his hands through his hair several times.

"Yes, it's a rather… odd choice to spend my time. But you know how Leyan can be - bitter, rough, violent. Not an ideal place for the youth, especially if they can't fight for themselves. Some don't even have anyone to keep after them. That's why I'm around here. Keep the peace." Mason answered.

"Mighty commendable of you." Abel commented.

"You may find it hard to believe, but these days, young ones are so ruthless. I don't know what inspires it. Them running around, stealing and lying, acting out in ways they've been told even though it's the completely wrong way of doing it. Everytime I ask them about it, they tell me the same thing - they just want a place to feel belonged, feel special, feel important and useful." Mason said.

"And I would assume at one point, you were in their boots?" Cassius asked.

"You bet. I mean, look at me, there's no need for further embellishment, because… there's really nothing else to embellish about me. Born here in Leyan, to a poor and single mother, I struggled to survive many times. Haven't moved out or even considered leaving Leyan, as this is the only part of the world I consider my own. Lost my mother at sixteen, and my girlfriend, my lover, the one wind that blows me away from the grave, dumps me because she thinks, 'I'm not mature.' Want to hear about maturity, how about-" Mason goes about saying, but he finds himself interrupted.

"I believe we get the picture, Rivers." Abel interjects.

"Heh… heh heh, it's so GOD DAMN FRUSTRATING I TELL YOU!" Mason exclaims, as he attempts to get up from his chair, he felt his foot slip, and he comes tumbling down to the rocky floor of the tavern. Mason shrieks as his head hits the ground. People watched in amazement at Mason's stupidity, while some laughs echoed the inn.

"How many drinks has Mason had?" Abel asked one of the innkeepers.

"Just one. Some people can barely hold on to 'heir liquor. 'hey're ei'her too gutless, too spineless, or hell - 'hey're both!" the black-toothed innkeeper said.

"Well, I guess Mason really connects with those he helps, because they contain the same level of maturity." Cassius says, before taking another drink.

As Abel looked down at Mason, his eyes started to flicker. It didn't seem like anyone else was noticing, as he was the only one to see what was being beholden. Faded faces started to appear, voices echoed in his head, and his head continued to showcase these strange illusions. It happened so fast, and it was without warning Abel saw something… so terrible…

Finally, he felt his mind snap, and he shouted. He nearly collapsed to the ground, but he held onto the table in a tight grip.

He fully stood, as Cassius came to his aid.

"Abel, what's wrong? What happened?"

Abel blinked once, the lights appeared to be gone. He pondered to himself, before silently piecing together all he had saw… and a terrible weight laid heavy on his chest. He spoke the name of the first face he saw in his mind.

"...Ralston."

* * *

**Sombra, Thanatos**

In the nation of darkness, the air was ripe with the weight of dread: a foreboding feeling that bears great fear, even in the most stone hearted of warrior. This was the typical feeling for anyone who steps foot into Thanatos, a country of despair and corruption. Regardless of who emerged alive if any venturer survives, all would suffer under the darkness, in the likes of which had never been seen or ever would see the gothic infrastructure, holds dungeons of unspeakable terror, anyone considered a criminal in the slightest aspect - either petty theft or treason against the parliament, is withheld until trial. But no crime goes unnoticed by the guards, who spend their time giving their own interpretation of punishment, in sadistic fashion.

Inside the air was frigid, cells are miserably small, and all prisoners are entrapped by thick, metal bars. In the interior hallway, a figure in the shadows walked towards the end. In the last cell on the right, a mixture of pain-induced screams and howl-like laughter emerged.

"...AWROOOOOOOOOOOO-HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

By the time the figure slides open the holding door, he sees the unfortunate prisoner, named Will Ralston, nailed to the walls. His arms were spread open, with nails of pure darkness stabbed into his wrists, holding him in place. Blood gushed out from the wounds as he screamed in agony. On the other hand, he sees a smaller man, with short, messy blond hair, harbor gray eyes, ugly scars cut across his face, and rune marks tattooed on his arms. He started to appear bored.

"Oh come on! No matter how many nails I drive into your fucking body, you still won't talk!" screamed the one known as Chris Wolf. In response, darkness surrounded his right hand, as it materializes into a knife. He approaches Will, grabs him by the face, and edges the knife towards one of Will's blue eyes.

"Perhaps I should go for a more convincing spot…"

"I think you've had your fun, Chris." spoke the figure in the shadows. He stepped out, revealing to be Thanatos's First Minister, Seth Sullivan. His skin was fair, with platinum black hair, and eyes resemblance of a serpent's. He wore a metallic, black overcoat, wrapped around his torso, with a thick, lenin shirt underneath, with silky pants and black boots. His right hand was wrapped around a cane, opening his hand revealed a silver cobra head decoration, with ruby gems as eyes.

Chris turned to Seth, and frowned.

"Come on, Seth. Lemme have my fun, I hadn't even gotten started yet!"

"What do you plan on doing? Shoving nails into his mouth, how else will he talk?" Seth asked.

Chris growled, before turning to Will.

"You're lucky, but let's see how long."

Chris fiercely turned and marched out of the cell, he grabbed onto the bars and being pulling, but he remained stuck. He growled.

"Come on, goddammit! How do I get out of here?!"

Seth calmly walked over to Chris, who stopped. Seth grabbed the bars… and slide them open. Chris narrowed his eyes at Seth, before stomping out. As soon as Chris left the cell, the nails vanished from the wall, and Will dropped to the rocky floor. Seth strolled over to him.

Will appeared shirtless, with blood smeared on his face and chest. He wore silk pants, and his feet appeared a mixture of dark colors. Slowly, Seth kneels down to meet with Will's eye level.

"...Are you awake, Ralston?" Seth innocently asks.

Will didn't reply, aside from a pain-inflicted moan escaping from his throat.

"You're a long way from home, aren't you? This isn't your regular god-fearing nation of sunbaskers, the only one worth fearing here is Azriel of Thanatos, and he knows you've said some offensive words about him." Seth said.

"Nothing that I said… about your dark lord… was far from the truth!" Will snapped.

"Oh, you don't say?" Seth asks.

"Thanatos has been Hell on Earth for centuries. The Despair Dynasty has been a house riddled with drunks, sociopaths, rapists, and murderers. They cripple the privileges offered on God's soil." Will stated, with blood dripping from his lips.

"Speaking of your lord, how is he any different from our's?" Seth questioned.

"What do you mean?" Will asked back.

"Y'know, last time I checked, the Tallest never flooded the Earth or had kids mauled by bears when they mocked a bald man." Seth said.

"God has his ways to cleanse the sins of his creations. I defend my family and my nation from those who wish to paint the world with blood. Even if I must die, I'll die as a symbol - for hope and resilience. God is light. God is fire. God keeps me warm in times of cold. There is a God in the skies, Seth, and he is not Azriel." Will declared.

"It seems your God has benevolence… you'd be surprised, because I convinced Azriel to give you an opportunity for amnesty. What you need to do is simple - publicly retract your proclamations against Azriel. If followed, then perhaps you'll be freed with your tongue unscaved." Seth offered.

Will said nothing, but mustered up the strength in his throat, and spat in Seth's face. The wet mixture of saliva and blood dripped down his face has he scowled.

Before Will knew it, he was kneeling on a pulpit outside of the doors to Azriel's palace, supported by two cloaked figures in between him. Before his eyes was a roaring crowd, awaiting to see death. A long line of black-armored guards held back the crowd from interfering, all commanded by Chris Wolf. The crowd's energy matched the power of a great earthquake, nearby statues even trembled at their might. But the crowd died down into shushes as Seth walked out. He cleared his throat, and spoke in a great voice.

"Today, we gather to witness the death of Belenusian chaplain Will Ralston… at the mighty hand of our Tallest, Azriel." Seth called, as a thousand screaming voices howled in joy.

"But before he dies… Will has one last breath to draw…" Seth says, stepping aside, while the cloaked figures also stepped away.

"...I am William Casper Ralston." Will said, in a surprisingly loud voice, strong enough to echo through the plaza Sombra's people occupy.

Will boldly ignored he taunts and mockery he catches a few crowd members. "I'm a traveling chaplain from Belenus… Valens, to be exact. And I am to confess my crimes before my death. I have very strong opinions about your king… and they are not positive. I could share them, but I'm afraid we'll be here all day… and I'm sure you're all awaiting to see me die. But I will not die begging to be freed, but when I die, the whole world will take notice. It's already a controversy that I am being held captive in the first place, when no nation - not even Thanatos - has the free right to imprison, torture, and execute any foreigner without a valid reason. I am no murderer, or rapist, or thief. I never in my mind planned to overthrow Azriel and take the throne for myself. I solely exist on this Earth to bring people closer to God. Today I will meet him, and I hope my death can make a difference more than my life."

A chorus of boos erupted from the hostile crowd, small rocks started to be thrown at Will's direction. A thousand screams demanding blood punctured the ear drums of Will. But within a snap, the crowd silences themselves once more. The double doors to the palace opened, and Will feels himself engulfed in shadows. Heavy footsteps walked as the crowd gasps at the sight of Azriel, Monarch of the Shadows.

He was a goliath. A mountain of a man, standing at an unnatural height of seven feet tall. His cloak was dark crimson, made of silk and satin, and his armor covered his torso, arms, and legs. His hair was long and shaggy, black as midnight. His eyes held strong resemblance to dried blood. His gesture alone commanded great respect, and the only thing more fearsome than his presence alone, is his great rage.

Propped over his shoulders, a sword twice his own size, but he carried with ease. An excalibur, with a devilish design, said to be crafted by demons themselves, welded in the flames of Hell. How'd it get into Azriel's possessions, nobody knew, but it's one of Azriel's most prized possessions. Azriel made a gesture to Seth, and Seth commanded Will to be flung to the marble, leaving his head over the edge. A weaved basket was placed underneath.

Azriel made his way to Will, and lifted the blade above his head. From there, everything seemed to move in slow motion to Will. His mind drifted - he thought of his wife, Karin, he thought of their twin children. He thought about every place he visited, all he has seen. Was it really meant to end this way? Perhaps, but to him, God always has a plan.

Very slowly, Will closed his head, and drew his last breath. The sword connected in a singular motion, and a soft drop was heard, landing into the basket.

* * *

**Leyan, Belenus**

Cassius's and Mason's faces had turned pale. Surrounding patrons of Dead Rabbit Inn, felt sobered just from hearing this vision alone.

"There's… there's no way." Mason began.

"Will Ralston is dead? Are… you sure?" Cassius asked.

"Positive. I don't know what forces brought me this, but… it seemed all too real. He still hasn't returned from his missionary trip, he said he was gonna be close to Thanatos's borderlines last I saw him… I knew he'd be in danger, but he told me he can handle it." Abel admitted.

There was a silence in the Inn. Slowly, listeners drifted back to their previous activities. But, the mood seemed to be ruined. Some just left, others pondered about the supposed death. Mason stumbled out from the Inn, and went outside. The sky was gloaming, dark colors painted the sky as the moon felt closer to the earth than it's usual spot.

"...You killed Ralston!" Mason screamed into the dusky sky.

"...Y-Y-You killed Ralston, you bastard!"

Cassius and Abel followed Mason outside. Struck with grief, Mason nearly dropped to his knees to weep.

"How can we be sure Ralston's really dead?" Cassius asked Abel.

"I don't know… it all felt like a dream. But if this really happened, we'll be hearing about it by tomorrow. By then… what's next?" Abel questions.

"What choice do we really have?" Cassius asked, slowly drawing That Which Razed Hell And Cut Heaven.

"A crusade against Thanatos?" Abel asks back.

"It's not the first and it certainly won't be the last. Light and Darkness are natural enemies. We're bound to fight." Cassius replied.

"Cassius! Thanatos is too strong. They have can obliterate any nation if they wanted to!" Mason said.

"There's no other way about it. If Will Ralston's really dead, then Thanatos has violated one of the natural rules set by the first nations - they must face consequences." Cassius replied.

"But for now, we must rest. By morning, we should expect news from the Pope." Cassius ordered, as he and Abel returned to Boss and Mulan. They galloped off, leaving a shaken Mason Rivers behind. Mason whimpered himself, and wandered off.

As Mason walked, from a building above, a small figure watched above. He observed the conversation between him and the Templars. He was hiding in the shadows, and had a thin longsword in his grasp. He carefully watched Mason go out of sight, before dashing off into the shadows.

* * *

**Character apps are still open, believe it or not! And there are still various people who've been meaning to give me their apps for characters slated to appear in Unbound Legends (you know who you are...)**

**Anyways, hope you enjoyed the opening of an unbound world where legends await.**


End file.
